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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29991171">Everything Will Be Okay</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMissPascal/pseuds/LittleMissPascal'>LittleMissPascal</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Death and an Angel [15]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Mandalorian (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Dialogue Heavy, F/M, Female Reader, Fluff and Angst, Helmetless Din Djarin, Immortals, Love Confessions, Soul Bond, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, no beta we die like men, no y/n</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 18:35:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,430</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29991171</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMissPascal/pseuds/LittleMissPascal</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Our souls are connected,” you say with as much conviction as you can infuse into your voice. “No matter what happens, I’ll always be your angel, and you’ll always be my Din.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Death and an Angel [15]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2052570</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>95</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Everything Will Be Okay</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Cross-posted on Tumblr</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When you open your eyes, you feel just as shocked as Din looks looming over you. </p><p>You sit up, heart pounding, and pull the edge of your torn shirt up to reveal smooth, unmarred skin. Other than your shirt being ripped, there is not the slightest indication you’d been stabbed, not even a tiny scar. What the kriff? You have no idea what to feel, what to think, but when you look up suddenly nothing else matters other than the fact Din is here with you.</p><p>There’s a lump in your throat as you stand up, making it hard to speak when you croak. <em>“Din.”</em></p><p>Without giving him a chance to respond, you throw yourself at him, nearly knocking him backwards. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, fingers tightly gripping the fabric of his shirt, and you bury your face against his neck, unable to hold back the overjoyed sob that escapes. Maker, you’ve missed him so, so much. It feels as if you’ve been apart for decades. You swear you are never letting him go ever again.</p><p>That’s the plan at least, until Din abruptly stiffens when you attempt to kiss him and disentangles himself as if you’ve burned him. He backs up, putting a whole galaxy-sized gap of distance between you both. You notice for the first time he’s dressed in civilian clothes, a solid black shirt and dark trousers. There is a hole in the shirt in the middle of his torso, revealing a glimpse of tan skin. </p><p>Your brain struggles to make sense of what you’re seeing. Hadn’t he been wearing beskar before? </p><p>Din stares at you, a mistrustful glint in his brown eyes you’ve never been on the receiving end of. “Who are you?”</p><p>Your whole world grinds to a halt. </p><p>What? Why would he ask that? Does he— Is he— Could he— Too many questions spin inside your mind, making you dizzy.  </p><p>This must be one of his stupid jokes, you tell yourself. Yeah, that’s gotta be it. He’s always had a twisted sense of humor after all.</p><p>“That’s not funny,” you say, scowling. “You know me better than anyone.”</p><p>Din just continues to stare at you, and his silence cuts into you like the blade of the Darksaber, bleeding you dry for a second time. You blink furiously before tears can spill down your cheeks because there is no reason to cry. Not at all. This is just a nightmare. None of this is real.</p><p>It <em>can’t </em>be.</p><p>You turn away from him, needing a moment to compose yourself, and your eyes end up looking at your bed. There is no mistaking the polka-dotted comforter or the abundance of fluffy pillows you’re addicted to collecting. You spin in a circle, struggling to remain calm. Instead of rock walls, you see paint a soft shade of periwinkle you’d spent hours deliberating over. Instead of bookshelves and a desk, you see your matching antique dresser and wardrobe set you’d bought at an auction for an amazingly fair price. </p><p>There is no denying you’re not in Gideon’s lair anymore. You’re standing in the bedroom of your kriffing apartment.</p><p>“Is this your home?” Din asks. His tone is quiet, but in the otherwise silent bedroom he might as well be screaming. “Every time someone new arrives, this place changes. I think it’s meant to bring them comfort during their stay. Sometimes it’s a park or a beach, but usually it’s their home.”</p><p>Stay? The word snags in your mind, jagged and sharp. <em>Stay</em> means being stuck in one place. Your eyes shoot to the corner where the door to the hall should be, but there is nothing there. Just blank wall space as if the door had been sealed and painted over.</p><p><em>Stay</em> is just a shorter word for confinement. </p><p>“We’re trapped here,” you whisper, a chill sweeping over your body. </p><p>A dark thought crosses your mind before you can stop it: <em>you’ve always been trapped. </em></p><p>And it’s true, isn’t it? For as long as you’ve been a Cupid, you’ve been under the thumb of Gideon and Hess and your other superiors. The freedom you had on Umbriel was just an illusion, a carrot dangled in front of your face. At the end of the day you reported back to headquarters for your next assignment and followed orders like a good little soldier. </p><p>All this time you’ve been locked in a cage, you’ve just been blind to its bars.</p><p>“You’re half right,” Din says, voice uncharacteristically bitter.</p><p>“What do you mean?” you ask, facing him again. </p><p>A muscle in his jaw ticks, like there’s something prickling under the surface. “You’ll leave this place just like everyone else does.” His lips purse into a thin line. “The only one trapped is me.”</p><p>You blink, not understanding. The way he’s talking doesn’t sound like the Din you know at all. He’s far more expressive than you’ve ever witnessed him to be, openly conveying every emotion on his face as the feelings occur. Biting your lip, you study the man in front of you in lieu of responding. </p><p>Appearance wise, he’s identical to Din. Same piercing brown eyes, same messy dark hair, large hands and strong build. All the outward physical details are supporting the conclusion this is your soulmate you’re looking at, but it’s as if his personality has been swapped with a stranger’s, leaving behind the external shell as a disguise. </p><p>“Din, what—”</p><p>“Why do you keep calling me that? The only name I have is Death.”</p><p>Your breath catches as your suspicions are confirmed that something is seriously wrong. What if he’s another replica meant to trick you just like the rest of the room? Icy fear starts to spread through your bloodstream, threatening to freeze your heart solid, when a sudden thought cuts through the terror. Your eyes can be easily deceived, but your soulmate bond is impossible to manipulate. It can show you the truth.</p><p>You step closer on shaky legs, praying to the Maker for strength. Death tenses, resembling a cornered animal, and the sight strikes another blow against your fragile heart. Steeling your resolve, you reach out for his hand the same patient way he once had with you aboard the Crest. It’s funny how life likes to repeat itself, you just wish it had better timing. </p><p>He gets this expression on his face like he’s leery of your intentions. Like if he voluntarily surrenders to your touch then it means he’s lowering all his defenses, making himself susceptible to being hurt. </p><p>You decide to try a different approach, turning your hand over to display your marked palm. </p><p>His eyes light up with recognition at the same time his lips part in silent shock. He hesitates a beat, then lifts his hand up to mimic yours, showing off his own soulmate marking. </p><p>Inching closer, you lightly brush your fingertips over his, a spark of familiar warmth igniting from the connection. One touch and the truth is confirmed. He is your soulmate. </p><p>He just can’t remember being him.</p><p>“I don’t understand,” Death murmurs, raw with vulnerability and confusion. “This mark…Where did it come from? I don’t remember receiving it.”</p><p>You swallow. “What’s the last thing you do remember?”</p><p>Brown eyes turn distant, looking back upon his memories to find an answer. Your fingers itch to smooth the crease that forms in the space between his eyebrows. </p><p>“Pain.” Death’s other hand touches his chest right where the hole in his shirt is. You’re not naive enough to think it’s coincidental. “I remember feeling like I was being ripped apart. There was this noise, too. It’s hard to explain, but it almost sounded like something was vibrating or humming. Then I woke up in what I thought was my ship, but found out was actually this place when I couldn’t teleport away.”</p><p>He looks at you, silently imploring you to help him make sense of it all, but it’s hard to focus as your heartbeat pounds loudly in your eardrums. You touch your side, feeling a twinge of phantom pain.</p><p>Xi’an told you that Gideon had stabbed Din once upon a time with the Lightsaber, a horrifying incident you had not known occurred in your soulmate’s past.</p><p>“There’s this weapon the Armorer made called the Lightsaber,” you begin, remembering what else the twi’lek had revealed. “It—”</p><p>“Takes power from souls and gives it to the wielder,” he interjects. “Why are you bringing it up?”</p><p>“Because I think it’s the reason we’re here,” you say softly. It’s a painful answer you don’t want to say out loud, but it’s ultimately one you know is necessary to voice. “The last thing I remember is being stabbed, just like you remember being hurt. I think everyone who’s been trapped here has had a piece of their souls captured by the Lightsaber to use as energy. We’re basically the equivalent of kriffing <em>batteries</em>.”</p><p>Death’s expression twists, a mixture of anger and what scares you to identify as despair. “That would explain then why everyone else eventually leaves this place except for me. I can’t die. There is nowhere else for my soul to go. I’m going to remain trapped here, alone, forever.”</p><p>“Hey,” you murmur, hating his wounded expression. “Don’t say that. I…” you trail off, because you can’t say <em>I’m here</em> or <em>I won’t leave you</em> when you have no control over your soul’s fate. But the mere thought of abandoning this beautiful piece of Din’s soul behind, lonely and imprisoned, leaves you feeling as if your heart has been torn from your chest. With a low whine, you press your forehead against his and send a wave of love across the bond, conveying what you cannot say with words.</p><p>He jerks with surprise, inhaling sharply. “What—What was that?”</p><p>“Our souls are connected,” you say with as much conviction as you can infuse into your voice. “No matter what happens, I’ll always be your angel, and you’ll always be my Din.”</p><p>Shock flickers across his face before it is swallowed by grim resignation. Tentatively, he caresses your cheek, avoiding direct eye contact. “I wish it really were as simple as that. There is no denying we’re connected as two matched souls, but you and I both know I’m not the Din you love. I’m not who deserves to hear your words of devotion.”</p><p>This time it’s you who pulls away. </p><p>Din had told you he believed himself undeserving of having a soulmate until he met you, but meeting this past version of himself has revealed to you just how deep his insecurities were rooted. Even when acknowledging you are soulmates, he stubbornly continues to think he’s not good enough. He can’t help comparing himself as lesser than the competition which is beyond ridiculous because the competition is <em>himself.</em> </p><p>You feel anger burn down the length of your spine, along each and every nerve and vein.</p><p>Maker, your soulmate is an idiot. And you make sure he knows it by flicking him in-between his eyes, eliciting a pained grunt.</p><p>“Listen to me and listen well,” you say, grabbing both sides of his face and forcing him to look at you. “Love is not conditional, it is constantly evolving and adapting to the changes life forces upon us all. To me, there is no difference between who you were, who you are, and who you will become. I will love you the same. Absolutely nothing will ever change the way I feel about you. You are mine and I am yours.”</p><p>He stares at you, still as a statue, and just when you are thinking of flicking him again Death lunges forward, hands threading through the strands of your hair as he smashes his lips against yours, urgent and desperate. He kisses you like he’s been waiting his entire lifetime for this precise moment. The warmth of his affection spreads through your whole body until it’s all you can feel—his stubble scraping against your cheeks, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip, every movement possessive and fierce and unbelievably wonderful. You know nothing beyond the taste of his mouth, the feel of his skin beneath your hands, the love you have for him so overwhelming you can barely breathe. </p><p>Death groans, low and guttural from the depths of his chest, and at first your brain mistakes the sound as pleasure, but then he growls against your mouth, every muscle tensing up, voice desperate, <em>“Stop.”</em></p><p>Your eyes slam open at the same time he forcibly shoves you backwards with a firm hand against your sternum. You struggle not to trip over your feet, arms spinning circles awkwardly in the air until you regain your balance, and when you look up a cry of alarm tears itself out of your throat in response to the horror you see.</p><p>Death is clutching at his head, groaning and snarling inhuman noises as his body flickers in and out of focus, appearance changing rapidly between humanoid and shadowy silhouette. He’s shaking so hard it’s as if he’s tearing apart at the seams, caught in the middle of transforming into a feral creature made of darkness that strikes a chord of fear deep inside you.</p><p>What do you do? What <em>the kriff </em>do you do?! </p><p>“Talk to me, sweetheart,” you plead, and barely restrain from whimpering when pitch black eyes snap up to stare back at you. “Tell me what’s happening. Tell me how to help you.”</p><p>“Get away from me, I—I can’t—” he cuts himself off, shaking his head emphatically with a pinched expression as if he’s bothered by a loud noise only his ears can detect. His voice is similar in its raspy sound to when he wears his helmet, but it is distorted with pain, words almost incomprehensible as they are forced through clenched teeth. “Something’s <em>wrong</em>.”</p><p>“No shit,” you retort automatically. You’ve never seen your soulmate like this before—manic and unhinged. It’s such a terrifying contrast to how he had behaved mere minutes ago, you struggle to make sense of the abrupt shift. There has to be a reason to justify the sudden switch in his behavior. Something that would trigger the loss of his control so drastically.</p><p>Something like watching Moff Gideon murder his soulmate right in front of him.</p><p>You bite back a curse. Out there beyond these four walls you’re trapped within Din is experiencing an emotional breakdown just like Gideon wanted to provoke all along. </p><p>“Sweetheart,” you try again, holding up your hands in a placating manner. “It won’t be easy, but I need you to calm down and listen— ”</p><p>Another shudder racks his body and a snarl so loud it verges on screaming interrupts your pleading. Without warning, a wave of dark energy explodes outwards from his hands, sending the furniture in the room flying in multiple directions. </p><p>When the energy washes over you, you expect to be similarly knocked off your feet, but instead you watch with wide eyes as your body absorbs it. You feel it moving restlessly beneath your skin, like it’s searching for something, and in the back of your mind you think you should be freaking out, but when the energy encounters your own powers and wraps around them like a security blanket, all you feel is Din. </p><p>Your potential terror fades into blissful euphoria. Every cell in your body flares with possessiveness and starts to chant <em>mine, mine, mine</em> as your powers adapt to the new presence. It’s like a precious piece of Din has curled up next to your heart, yours to love and cherish and protect. You look to the bond, stunned to find it’s shining brighter than you’ve ever seen, rivaling a supernova in its intensity.</p><p>An unprompted memory flashes through your mind of you and Din on the Razor Crest, so vivid and crisp you think you could reach out and touch the armor he wears, feel the chill of the beskar beneath your fingertips.</p><p><em>‘Do you like being Death?’ </em>you hear yourself ask as stars whish by overhead, all blurring into each other, silver light overcoming the midnight darkness of space.</p><p>
  <em>‘I’m good at it.’</em>
</p><p>For the first time in your existence, you wonder if it’s lonely being a one-of-a-kind immortal entity who roams the galaxy. And then immediately afterwards you think: <em>Maybe I can be good at it too.</em></p><p>When you grab hold of the hazy outline of his hand and hold it against your chest, right over your wildly beating heart, there is no hesitation. Just pure instinct. His powers immediately latch onto yours, light and darkness intertwining together, mirroring the soft glow of twilight. </p><p>Death tries to pull away, to save you from the irreversible change, and inadvertently releases several chaotic pulses of energy as his focus slips. You ignore how the room starts to shake and the walls begin to crack, revealing glimpses of blinding light, instead leaning further into his touch, looking fearlessly into his onyx eyes. “It’s okay. Everything will be okay.”</p><p>Your words are as much a reassurance as they are a promise, and you feel the exact moment he believes you when he presses his forehead against yours, his voice shouting over the maelstrom, <em>“I love you!”</em></p><p>There is no time for you to respond as the walls disintegrate into dust and the entire room is engulfed in white light, swallowing you and Din whole. It’s all-encompassing, wiping out each of your senses as if you’re a newborn wrapped within your mother’s womb, not knowing what exists beyond this singular moment. </p><p>An invisible force pulls at you the same way a puppet is manipulated by strings, tugging you up, up, up and away. You don’t have enough self-control to fight it, but even if you did you realize there is no reason to be resistant as it slowly chases away your body’s numbness with gentle warmth, reminding you of how winter gradually melts under the heat of summer. Soon your limbs are able to weakly twitch and respond to your brain’s commands, then your ears pop next, bringing back sound.</p><p>You hear a strange huffing noise loud enough it gives you the mental impression the source is mere inches away from your head; a combination of a teary whine and a frustrated growl. It’s familiar, right on the edge of your memory, but nothing leaps out until something pats at your cheek.</p><p>Blinking your eyes open, it takes several seconds for your sight to adjust to the unexpected dimness and your change of scenery—most prominently, standing inches away from your face, a little green-skinned child peering back at you with wide, watery eyes. He’s filthier than you remember last seeing him, covered in smudges of dirt.</p><p>“Hey, bud,” you greet, throat rough like sandpaper. “You okay?”</p><p>He hiccups a choked sob in response, tears brimming.</p><p>You slowly sit up, wincing when you catch a glimpse of dried blood caked against your torso. Prodding at the skin, you gasp quietly as you realize not only did combining your soul with the piece of Din’s bring you back to life, it healed your wound too. </p><p>The baby’s fussing increases in volume, drawing your focus when he starts gesturing frantically with his arms towards something to the side of you both.</p><p>You tense even before you turn to follow his pointing hands, a jolt of unease rippling through you like an electric current. Squinting, you spy a slither of light dissecting the dark, but there’s something eerie about how it flickers, like a busted bulb struggling to maintain lit. </p><p>“What—” you start, only for your heart to lurch into your throat when the light moves closer and awareness dawns on you.</p><p>It’s Gideon holding the Lightsaber. The blade of the ancient weapon is damaged and it no longer hums its haunting tune, but the Seraph doesn’t appear to care about that or his bleeding head wound. His entire focus is consumed by something far more important.</p><p>A silhouette enshrouded in a thick fog of shadow and swirling blackness, hovering silently over the ground. </p><p>
  <em>Din.</em>
</p><p>Your soulmate mark burns along your palm, not with heat, but with bone-chilling coldness.</p><p>“Stay here,” you tell the kid, standing up as your powers begin to buzz and accumulate like storm clouds within your chest. It is beyond precious, this extraordinary strength Din’s energy has infused with your abilities.</p><p>Once upon a time you were scared of Moff Gideon. Of all the ways he could hurt you and manipulate you.</p><p>“Everything will be okay.”</p><p>Now it’s his turn to be afraid.</p>
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